What They Have
by Darkly Dreaming
Summary: Prompt: "Smut from that finale scene when Emma starts unlacing her dress to distract past!Hook but instead of Killian stopping her, he enjoys the show and decides to take her away for a little… privacy."


As has become the norm with my Captain Swan fics, this is also from a prompt on Tumblr.

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"Just make sure that I - _he_ - remains occupied and doesn't return to my ship. I'll take care of the rest."

Emma sighed in resignation. "Okay." She then proceeded to take off her cloak and unlace her corset.

Killian did a double take. "Wha- what are you doing?!"

"Making sure he stays occupied." She gave him a look that said 'duh.' "Shouldn't be difficult. You and I both know, I'm his type."

He quickly got up to stop her. "Swan, that man sitting there...you don't know him." He would've continued, but Emma stuck her chest out a little and whatever he was about to say was lost.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were jealous."

What Killian should have done was walk out the door and let her confuse his poor past self.

Instead, Killian looked into her eyes, cupped her cheek, and furiously whispered, "I am not jealous of that deceitful, heartless pirate!"

Emma only had time to widen her eyes in shock before his lips were on hers. His hand strayed further into her hair and tightened its grip, desperate to let her know how different he and that other him were.

They broke apart, breathing heavily, and Killian rested his forehead on hers. "That man would use you for a night and toss you aside. And he would not know what he had."

Emma was dumbstruck. "What would he have?"

Killian swallowed hard. "The only woman capable of clearing the haze of revenge and thawing a frozen heart." The earnestness in his voice, the wetness in his eyes; she could only kiss him again in realization of what _she_ had: the love of a changed man. They were hard to come by and she knew it, only had to look across the room to prove it.

She broke away from him again but grabbed his hook and led him to the stairs.

Killian looked confused. "But we don't have a room, or the currency to pay for one."

She simply grinned and pulled two pins from her hair. "Always keep these around just in case." She leaned against the door and listened, making sure it was empty, then dropped to her knees and mumbled, "It's all about the tumblers."

When the door was unlocked she practically yanked Killian in and slammed the door. Then she pressed him into it, and herself into him. Her lips hovered near his, urging him to complete the connection.

Killian needed no prompting. He captured her lips and held her close, still somewhat incredulous at his good fortune, their predicament at the back of his mind. He held her waist tightly with his forearm and cradled her head reverently, pouring all the passion and love he could into the kiss. Last time he hadn't really savored the experience; he'd taken it for granted in the moment. But this time, if she pulled away and tried to brush it off, he would have categorized every taste, smell, sensation, and carefully put them away for safe-keeping in his mind so that he may bring them to the forefront if he so wished.

Killian, never breaking their kiss, led her to the bed, onto which they collapsed. As much as he wished he could rip the clothes from her, he knew they were pressed for time. Instead, he vowed to himself that if he ever got the opportunity again he would take all the time in the world to maked sure his Swan received his full attention and that she knew she was loved.

On her back, Emma shoved the coat off Killians shoulders and dove for his neck. Killian bit back a groan and ground himself into her. "Emma, love," he whispered into her collar bone. She responded by undoing his pants and pushing them down. He pushed up her skirts and smirked before ripping through her underwear with his hook. She gasped in surprise, but didn't reprimand him; she knew how pressed for time they were, but needed this just as he did.

The groan he had suppressed came out when he entered her. She was surprisingly wet and very tight and it was all he could do to still himself inside her.

"Emma," he whispered. His eyes were clear and full of something she wasn't quite ready to accept just yet. Maybe when they were back in their own time. She gazed back, unknowing that her eyes mirrored his.

"Killian," she gasped. "Move. Please." They were so intimate she had to close her eyes. She hadn't thought this through. They really didn't have time for this, but somehow that made it that much more meaningful, and it scared her. But it felt so good and so right that she just had to go with it.

He filled her wonderfully and she could tell neither of them would last long. The tension between them had them both taught as a bow string and both snap any second.

Killian still refused to move, whether because he couldn't or wouldn't, and Emma was getting frustrated. Finally she hiked a leg up over his hip and rolled them over. He came back to himself then and ran his hand up and down her torso, caressing her thigh, and kept his hook anchored at her hip.

Emma raised herself up and quickly dropped again, drawing a gasp from him. Up again, and he met her halfway. She bent forward, face in his neck, and picked up the pace. They found a good rhythm for a minute, but she shifted slightly and Killian could tell he hit just the right spot, because she faltered and muttered, "Oh." He was close, so he sought the bundle of nerves at her apex and gave it the lightest of touches, gently circling as she bit his shoulder and crashed down on him.

Quickly, he flipped them over again and captured her lips, the aftershocks of her orgasm washing over him. A few more thrusts and he spent himself inside her. He rested his head on her shoulder and tried to regain his breath.

Unfortunately, they couldn't afford to revel in each others' presence long. They had to get her parents to meet so she would exist.

"So," Emma said, finally. "Distract your past self. Not sure I'll be able to focus, but I'll do my best." She smirked and licked his neck. "I might not be able to stop thinking of this."

"I would be disappointed if you could, love." He kissed her again and got up, pulling his pants back on. She followed and pulled the remains of her panties away. She grabbed his coat off the floor and put them in a pocket.

"Think of them as a token," she grinned. "Like a handkerchief or something. Only more...intimate." And then she was gone, out the door. Off to distract him.

And he had a job to do.


End file.
